oh oh, you talk to me in siren song

Regan was a pirate queen; she sailed the Subetan seas for 15 years pillaging, murdering and looting. Her fearsome reputation preceded her wherever she went. Her crew were fiercely loyal; though Regan was a hard captain, she was also fair and had a great amount of affection for her crew. It was said that she refused to leave any port unless every member of her crew were accounted for. Loyal and hardworking crew were rewarded handsomely, whilst transgressions were punished most severely. Treason against Regan or her crew, speak of mutiny, or theft were punished by a slow death; victims were strung up on the mast of Regan's ship, Revelations for all to see. No one that crossed paths with Regan and incurred her wrath lived to tell the tale. Townspeople would abandon their homes if they heard that Regan's ship was coming to shore; it was better to leave than to witness their own destruction.

No one knows precisely what happened when Revelations sank, about 20 nautical miles offshore on a mild summer night. Rumours began to circulate; Regan was careless and inebriated, striking a reef and causing it to sink; someone speculated that the entire crew had committed mutiny (unlikely, knowing the loyalty of Regan's crew); and yet another that Regan had just tired of pirating life and decided to end it all (a tale told in taverns and largely guffawed at before the speaker would even finish speaking). Whatever the reason, those that had not been on board would never know.

Revelations had been carrying a cargo of stolen Devonti when it sunk. None of the crew survived, but the crew were so notorious that not even Davy Jones wanted them. The entire crew came back as a herd of ghostly Devonti; a pirate crew of the undead. Regan, of course, was extremely unimpressed upon coming back in this form, but dismissing the ridiculousness of it, she ordered her crew to get back to work. Revelations was resurrected, becoming a ghost ship of renown. It is said that it is a sure omen of death if one sees it come to port; it is said that you stare your own death in the face if you ever see the largest of ghostly Devonti depart from the ship. Towns all along the coast lock their doors tight at night, turning their faces away from the windows and pretending the sounds of faint hooves clattering outside are only the product of their overactive imaginations.